


6 feet under

by Myworldoffanfanfiction



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No War, Bathtubs, Canon Divergent, Car Accidents, Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort, M/M, No Homo, Trigger warnings for car accidents, i wrote this because another work broke me, kinda OOC, please read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myworldoffanfanfiction/pseuds/Myworldoffanfanfiction
Summary: Merriell didn’t say his thanks, because that wouldn’t be him if he did say it. Merriell, before the crash, was known for not saying thank you, for not being a gentleman, so why should he now?
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	6 feet under

**Author's Note:**

> @ijustlookatpicture ‘s work broke me to pieces, as they know, so I wrote this. It’s not fluff tho.. so if anything writing it broken me more.. I hope u all enjoy it?

“Merry, I’m home” Eugene called as he closed the front door behind him “I brought that bread you like” He called again, picking the grocery bags back up off the floor and taking them into the kitchen. Their house together was small to Eugene, and giant to Merriell, but either way it was perfect for the two of them. Not to big and not to small, something perfect. And after everything that they went through, they needed something at least good in their lives. 

It had been months since the crash, and they were coping. But bad days still happen, and around this time of the year the bad days are more frequent. Merriell still hasn’t gone to his PT, downright refuses to do it with or without the nice lady who came to help once, and after that session, Eugene had to escort her out with a mental reminder to send her some flowers and an apology card to make up for the scratch marks on her arms. Merriell hasn’t meant to hurt her, he knew that, he knew he was worked up about everything that had happened, but that didn’t excuse what he did. 

That was many weeks ago now, and the lady still hasn’t come back. No call or text, she was gone. He knew Merriell knew, because he knew Merriell wasn’t dumb, not at all. The first day they met he knew that he definitely wasn’t dumb. But he somewhat wished he was just dumb enough to not realise that he had scared the woman off, the same woman who just wanted to help him. 

That was probably what set off the chain of slow upcoming bad day. And he had a feeling that today would be the awaited bad day, because God forbid that they both be happy at the same time. The day Eugene was happy, was the same day he had unwillingly put his worry’s onto Merriells slim, forever bruised and scarred shoulders. 

“Merriell?” Eugene called as he rushed to the bottom of the stairs and called from there “You alright?” He started to walk up the creaky steps, keeping a hand on the banister to steady himself. Normally, Merriell would call for him, and he knew for a fact the man (Were they men? Twenty one shouldn’t be classed as adult hood, not after the childish fear he saw in Merriells eyes just before the truck hit their car) never slept during the day. Eugene made it to the upstairs, where their bedrooms and bathroom was located. Along with a towel cupboard that they only opened after showers or baths (Recently baths for Merriell, because of, y’know) 

“Mer-“ Eugene started his calls once again, but a voice from the bathroom, more like a grumble, interrupted him. He went over to the direction of the voice, muffled by the adjacent door. He pushed it open and it creaked annoyingly like it normally did. What he found was a very tired looking Merriell Shelton, in a half filled bath, in a position that looked painful to glance at. He rushed to his side quickly, fixing the shorter ones legs out into a more comfortable position. He had made sure this morning that Merriell took his medicines, like he always did, so he knew Merriell probably didn’t feel the actual pain of his already hurt legs awkward position 

The location of where he took them changed probably each time. Sometimes he would take them tucked under the covers, either poking his hand out to take them himself or popping his head out with his bedhead and all and he would take them in front of Eugene. Other times, when Merriell would get out of bed on a lucky day, he would take them in the kitchen leaning heavily on both the counter and Eugenes arm or hand or sometimes his whole body if he was having extra trouble with his footing that day,or on the sofa where he would be sitting down and not leaning so much on the isle in the kitchen or Eugene himself. But Eugene didn’t mind being leaned on like he was a walking stick, hey, at least Merriell took his medicine. Recently, it had been the days of Marriell still in bed, poking his hand out and nothing more. But that was okay. 

Merriell groaned again, rubbing his eyes with a fist as he tried to move his legs out of sheer spite. He didn’t enjoy the manhandling, he could move his legs on his own, made it to the fucking bathroom and actually ran a bath for fuck sakes 

“And you forgot your pyjamas are still on” Eugene grinned, shaking his head at his best mates allowed-thinking “I’ll help you get out if you want” 

Merriell knew he didn’t have a choice but he still nodded slightly, rolling his neck as he moved around in the water to help Eugene lift him. It was embarrassing, to Merriell. Having his best friend lift him out of a fucking bathtub like he was a cranky toddler. Which he wasn’t, even with his injury he was still an adult (He didn’t care if Eugene thought them being twenty one was still young, in Shelton’s eyes he was an adult now). His nod was to trick his own mind into thinking that he did have a choice, although his brain wasn’t as dumb as he had hoped and there was a little voice in his head that said ‘pathetic’ over and over again like a skipping record. 

The voice kept going even as Eugene wrapped an arm around his waist and under his scar-mangled legs, lifting him up and depositing him gently on the closed toilet lid. Eugene made sure his legs were in a comfortable position that wouldn’t put more strain on them than the placement they were in when in the bathtub had done. 

Eugene drained the bathtub, then quickly going to the towel cupboard and grabbing two. He came back and put them gently on Merriell’s lap, knowing the shorter wouldn’t appreciate being  helped out of his clothes. He didn’t appreciate help in general, if the PT woman was anything to go by. 

“Call me if you need anything” Apparently, when stuck in his own head, Eugene had gotten the other Male some clean clothes. If that didn’t explain how auto-pilot Eugene could be when assisting (because God forbid the word help with Merriell) he didn’t know what would. 

Merriell didn’t say his thanks, because that wouldn’t be  him if he did say it. Merriell, before the crash, was known for not saying thank you, for not being a gentleman, so why should he now? Why should he change himself just because he got into a life-threatening situation? Eugene said enough thank you’s for him, was a gentlemen enough for him, was nice enough for him. So, he left that all to him. 

He knew Eugene knew he was thankful, he didn’t know how but he just knew that Eugene knew he wasn’t just some stuck up Cajun boy that didn’t give a shit about anything nice anyone did for him. He didn’t know how, but he knew Eugene saw the better side of him even if he didn’t willingly show it. Before, he was scared about that, knowing Eugene saw the ‘good’ side in him (if there was any left of it) and that downright terrified him. It still somewhat did, but living together changed the fear into something else, something Merriell didn’t want to explain, something he just didn’t want to talk about in fear of a bad reaction from Eugene. Which was weird, because Merriell didn’t fear the repercussions of his words even. But now... 

Like he said, he didn’t want to think or talk about it. Probably would never do until he was six feet under. 


End file.
